


i'll get it from you, i'll take it with my tongue

by Amymel86



Series: finding my voice [6]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, F/M, Praise Kink, Smut, Speech Disorders, Stuttering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 22:22:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20243431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amymel86/pseuds/Amymel86
Summary: "Ah-ah-aah," Sansa says, shaking her head and wagging her finger. Jon whimpers pitifully which only makes her giggle some. He likes her giggle very much. "Use your words to get what you want."





	i'll get it from you, i'll take it with my tongue

**Author's Note:**

> So... here's a dollop of smut to go with all that fluff this series has been carrying... (this takes place a month or so after their first date and I can't even attempt to sneak this into the event collection under the guise of being a drabble...)

"Ah-ah-aah," Sansa says, shaking her head and wagging her finger. Jon whimpers pitifully which only makes her giggle some. He likes her giggle very much. "Use your words to get what you want."

Jon huffs, rubbing his hands up and down her thighs where they bracket his own as she perches there, straddling his lap on the couch. "Y-you're a wicked woman, Sansa Stark. Do you know that?"

Sansa - his wonderfully gorgeous, but no less wicked _girlfriend_ \- pouts at him, her own hands smoothing up and down his arms, occasionally stopping to trace around one of the dark crows or pointed swords drawn onto his skin. "I only want to help you practice, Jon," she tells him, her ticklish fingers dancing around the wolf he'd had added to his sleeve to match with hers.

Jon's mesmerised by her. _Truly_, he is. He waits to watch the way her teeth sink into the plump of her lip, scraping over the soft, pretty pink of it, before releasing, her lip a little more wet and swollen than it had been before. Surging up to kiss her again, Jon makes Sansa squeak delightfully. He'll never get enough of this, _enough of her._

She allows him a few seconds before pulling away, laughing. "What do you want, my love?" She whispers, hands cupping his jaw, lips still torturously close to his own. "Tell me. I like it when you talk to me. The more you say, the more rewards you'll get."

Her words both soothe him and inflame him, much like her touch. She cards her hands through his hair, one after the other and all over again. The way her fingernails lightly scrape his scalp causes little lightning bolts to shoot down his spine and only serve to make him harder in his jeans.

"_Kiss me,_" he whines, and Sansa grins down at him, offering only a small peck to the lips. "That wasn't what I m-m-m-" Jon pauses, taking a breath, but Sansa starts grinding down on him and he's sure it's meant to be an encouragement, but Jon could equally call it a hindrance. Not that he ever would, because then she might stop. "That wasn't what I m-meant."

Sansa smiles and relents, rewarding him with a proper kiss before pulling away again. "But if your mouth is occupied, you won't be able to talk," she explains.

"I could think of a _better activity_ to occupy my mouth," Jon manages, one brow raised as his hands travel high on her thighs.

"Mmmm," Sansa hums, "you know I like that." He does. He knows because whenever Sansa allows him to feast between her legs, she moans and sighs and sings his name, she strokes through his hair before grabbing fistfuls and holding on tight, she trembles and bucks , her thighs twitching and shaking until she falls apart and gasps desperately for breath. "But that won't help your speech now, will it?"

"Speech-schmeech," Jon shrugs, making her giggle. "Why t-t-talk when I can eat you for breakfast?"

She looks at him then, batting her pretty lashes and licking her sinful lips. "But you know I love when you talk dirty. It gets me really wet."

Oh, she is a minx. 

Jon drops his head to her shoulder. "_Sansaaaa_," he groans, not able to hold back from nuzzling into her neck. She giggles again which only makes him do it more.

Pulling away, Sansa stares down to him and Jon takes a breath as he looks up into her sapphire eyes. "Take off your shirt," he commands, gaze not leaving her face as she does so. "A-a-and your bra."

His girlfriend does as instructed, baring her perfect, rose-tipped breasts for his view. Jon's hands wrap around her ribs, smoothing upwards until he's cupping her. "Gods, I love your tits," he rasps, swallowing down thick desire as he kneads her soft flesh. "I love putting my m-m-m-" he pauses and Sansa starts her slow encouraging grind on him again, "m-m-mouth... I love putting my m-mouth on them."

Sansa hums, her hands in his hair, guiding him forward as she arches her back, the very vision of temptation. He envelopes one pretty pink nipple hungrily, trying to taste as much of her as he possibly can. Sansa gasps softly before pushing him lightly. "Not too long. You can't talk like that now, can you?"

"You're killing me, Sansa," Jon growls.

Giggling, Sansa nestles down into him, littering the side of his neck with kisses. "Call me your good girl again," she whispers, "like you did when you made love to me last night."

If Jon wasn't flushed with desire before, then he certainly was now with the memory of last night. Up until recently, Sansa had told him she always wanted to lead their encounters, that she felt most comfortable being in control and on top. Jon had no issues with that whatsoever. What he did have an issue with, was the reason behind her fear of being beneath a man; _her ex._

_"He would get carried away sometimes, and I didn't like it."_

Jon had offered to break the man's legs for her. He was only half joking... probably less than half.

But Sansa had laughed lightly, then tutted, telling him that she'd prefer for them both to just pretend that Joffrey Baratheon never existed.

Last night, however, Sansa had pulled Jon down on top of her and told him of her trust in him and that she wanted to feel him make love to her, wanted him to cover her body with his and feel his warm weight on top of her. They'd held each other's gaze with her legs hitched around his hips and her bed frame squeaking in time with his thrusts.

And he'd called her his _good girl._

In all honesty, he's not sure how that had slipped out, but Sansa seemed to like to hear his praises when they were together like that so all manner of endearment spilled from his lips. 

"My good girl, my sweet Sansa, you're so perfect, you drive me wild, make me so hard when you're so good for me."

He may or may not have stuttered at any point during his littering of heated compliments. He's honestly not sure, too caught up in making love.

Leaning up, Sansa hovered, inches from his face where Jon had let his head fall back against the couch. He cradled her cheeks in both hands, liking the way she'd lean and nuzzle into his palm. "You'll always be my good girl," he manages on a whisper.

Sansa looked pleased at that - for what he'd said or for how he'd not stuttered, he wasn't sure, but it didn't really matter.

"Say dirty things to me, Jon," Sansa asks quietly, eyes dropping to his lips as she chews on her own.

"You'll laugh at m-m-m-" _Shit_. How can she expect him to be able to turn her on with words? They're his greatest weakness. "You'll laugh," Jon huffed.

Sansa started stroking the hair at his temples as she stared into him, making sure to take the time to study each of his features. "Never," she shook her head. "I'd never laugh at you, Jon." 

"I..." she was still stroking his hair affectionately. It was quite distracting. Not that Jon would ever complain. "I w-wouldn't know w-what to say," he shrugs.

"Are you saying you don't have _any_ dirty thoughts?"

Jon felt a feral sort of rumble eminate from the very centre of his chest. "You _know_ I do."

"Then _tell me,"_ Sansa whispers, warm and honey-like before pressing a slow kiss or three to his lips. "What dirty thoughts does Jon Snow have?" She muses seductively. 

Taking in a long drag of air, his lungs expanding before slowly releasing again, Jon licks at his lips and stares into his girlfriend's glittering blue eyes. "I think about getting m-m-my mouth on you. On your n-neck," Jon strokes his fingers down the column of her throat, his own bobbing as he watches the path of his fingertip. "On your perfect tits," he drags his feather light touch around the curve of one breast, and then the other. "But m-mostly," Jon continues, hand moving down, down, down until he's cupping her mound over her leggings. "Mostly, I th-.... I th-" He could feel the heat of her in his hand and it was driving him to distraction. Sansa was not helping matters by rocking her pelvis, grinding herself against his palm. "_Fuck_."

"Come on, baby," Sansa coos, stroking her fingers through his hair again as she issues him with little kisses. "You're doing so well. Tell me. _Tell me what you think about doing to me."_

Jon whined pitifully which only served to make Sansa grin down at him.

_Ok. Breathe._

"I-I think about eating your pussy," he manages. "Like, a lot....A-an _embarressing_ amount, actually."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he says, swallowing.

"Do you..." Sansa pauses to raise a brow down at him, "... do you touch yourself when you think of eating my pussy?"

Jon nods his head and bites his lip. "Yeah." His voice is hoarse and scratchy.

Feeling her shift, one leg moving between his and then the other, Jon lets Sansa slip down his body with his hands brushing her soft sides. "Go on," she tells him, kneeling between his legs, reaching for his belt buckle. "Tell me more. Tell me what you like about eating me out and what else you think about."

_Seven fucking hells!_

"Uhh," he swallows again, watching his girlfriend undo his fly and reach in to pull him out. His cock is hard and wanting, filled with an ache for relief. Sansa wraps a hand around him and begins to stroke up and down slowly.

"Like this? Is this how you touch yourself while thinking about going down on me?"

_Utter. Minx._

Quite frankly, when Jon does it, it's a lot more frenzied and doesn't feel half as good as having her hands on him. Jon just answers her with moan that makes her grin.

"Tell me," she whispers. "Or I'll stop."

Well we can't have that.

"I love the way you taste," Jon blurts out. Sansa looks pleased with his confession and leans forward to issue a long lick up the underside of his cock with the flat of her warm tongue. Jon's hiss melts into a groan. "I like when you b-... when you b-... b-..." 

_Come on! Not now. Breathe._

"-buck... I like it when you b-buck into my m-mouth - _shit_!" Sansa had leant forward to spit on his cock, her other hand joining the first to stroke him up and down, wrists twisting delightfully as she encircled him. Jon thinks his eyes may have rolled to the back of his head. "_Fuck_, Sansa. That feels so g-_good_, baby."

"Keep talking and you'll get my mouth."

"I like it when y-y-y-you get d-desperate, when your legs start to sh-shake and you p-pull on my hair." Sansa takes him in her hot, wet mouth, her pretty blue eyes staying on his. "_Fuck_!" Jon hisses, only just managing not to buck up against the back of her throat. "I love when you moan my name." His hands are carding through her hair now as she bobs up and down his shaft, silky strands of copper slipping through his fingers while she sucks on him and hums. "I love how you always want t-to t-t-touch me. _Always_. You're _always_ touching me, Sansa and it feels _so_ fucking good, baby."

Watching her work him with her mouth, feeling her tongue stroking his length or twisting and flicking across the tip, Jon goes a little slack-jawed. Yet again, he's mesmerised, and he knows he'll be replying this in his head whenever he's next without her. 

She releases him with a pop. "You've stopped," she accuses and Jon whines pitifully in protest. "Keep talking, baby."

"I love watching your tits bounce when we fuck." The words tumble out and surprisingly don't jumble or trip him up. Briefly, he wonders if he's been too crass for his perfect girl, but she only grins and proceeds to take him in her mouth again. "I love how w-w-wet you get for me, and how it f-feels to be inside you -_fuck_! Sansa, you are so good at that, love! _Oh Gods!"_ He's positively babbling now as Sansa cups his balls and continues to suck on him, moaning around his cock like he were a Gods-damned popsicle on a hot summer's day. "Please don't stop, baby," he begs as she moves faster. "_Fuck_! You feel so good, my good girl, you know exactly what to d-do to drive me insane... Oh Gods! Yes!.. _Fuck_! Like that! So good, baby... " 

His breath is ragged and Jon knows he's not going to last too long. Maybe he should be embarrassed by how quickly Sansa can finish him, but there's not much room in his consciousness for anything besides her hot, wet mouth, clever tongue and her crystal blue eyes right now. "I'm g-gonna cum if you keep going like that, love," Jon warns, fingers sinking into her hair. Sansa moans again, sending tingly vibrations through him. "You l-like that? Y-you want me to cum in your pretty m-mouth, love?" Sansa hums and nods while never letting go of him. "_Fuck_! You're such a good girl.. so good for me, Sansa, keep going, love." He's lost now, babbling on and on like a madman. "Fuck! I love your mouth, mmmm, oh Gods, Sansa!" 

Dissolving into grunts and moans and gasps of breath, Jon sees stars as his perfect girl continues suckling on him, milking him of everything he has. 

"_Fucking hell!"_ He exclaims happily as Sansa climbs back up to sit across his lap. He pulls her closer and nuzzles his face into her neck and hair while he catches his breath. Sansa starts tracing her fingers around the images on his skin again. "I'm really glad I talked to you that d-.. that d-" Jon gulps hoping that would help, but knowing Sansa would be patient with him even if it doesn't. "-that day."

"Oh_, I bet_ you are," she giggles.

"No," Jon grins, squeezing her tighter, "not j-j-just that." 

She shifts to look down at him then, nothing but sweet affection on her face. Jon reaches up to tuck some hair behind her ear. "I l-love you, Sansa... you're the best thing to have ever happened t-to me, and I'm going to try to be the same for you."

Her grin spread slowly and it's a delight to watch. "I love you too, Jon." Leaning forward, their matching smiles melt into kisses.He hopes someday he'll deserve her.

"B-but now my good girl needs to b-b-be properly thanked for that practice session we just had," Jon rasps, his voice low and dripping in desire again, their foreheads pressed lightly together.

"Hm? What did you have in mind?"

"Oh, I d-don't know. Maybe she'll allow me to eat her pussy for an hour or two?"

"An hour or two?!" Sansa giggles, shrieking and squealing, kicking her legs when he lifts her in his arms and begins to carry her towards the bed.

**Author's Note:**

> Was that ok? Im always second guessing writing dirty talk because there's a fine line between hot and cringe and sometimes I'm not sure which side I'm on. I hope that you guys liked it.
> 
> I think this will be the last of this series for now. I could go on to show stuff like Jon angsting over meeting Ned and Cat and what they must be thinking of their daughter dating an ex-con but might save that for another drabble fest or if it fits with a prompt I get maybe???
> 
> I do actually have plans for what they would be doing career wise but I'll save that for if I pick it back up again.
> 
> A HUGE thank you to all those who have been following this series and have commented on every entry!! 💜💜💜💜


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